


'Cheese ain't romatic'

by Strawberry_lime



Series: Far from home, but not their hearts [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anger, Cute, F/M, FFH, Far from home, Fluff, Spider-Man: Far From Home Trailer, Spoilers, but nah, i saw the leaked trailer, i think, idk - Freeform, just made for each other, kinfa, sorry - Freeform, thought of this, yeah i was gonna do more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:58:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_lime/pseuds/Strawberry_lime
Summary: But it is.It really isOrPeter some how remembers his promise to give MJ a swing round NYCP. S not the food cheese, the verbal thingie





	'Cheese ain't romatic'

**Author's Note:**

> Had this in the back of my mind, soz if it's a bit rushed  
> Decided to make a series, but might change the name because it' so cheesy

 

__**-*-**

 

Michelle had _always_ liked Miss Fadler: her loving voice was one with the silence that hung round the library, and her smiles would warm you up inside out even after a torrential rainstorm. But walking back through the busy streets of New York, noisy and gushing with wild, cold winds, she realized that even the _sweetest_ souls had a sour side to them. It wasn’t _her_ fault that their flight home from Europe got cancelled because the majority of them very nearly almost _died_ , and it _definitely_ wasn’t her fault that she was asleep on her bed the moment she walked into her room.

Didn’t she watch the news, because Michelle betted that her face must have been on at least five different channels, and maybe then would Miss Fadler have let her off.

_But nooo, it would be against the rules to not fine someone for not returning a book on time, even if they’d been **so** close to snapping they’re neck by a car door_

She wasn’t being too harsh on Miss Fadler: if Michelle had been in her shoes, she’d have been more worried about their _wellbeing_ rather than if the book had a scratch on it; she wouldn’t have even hesitated to wrap them in a hug – even though that ain’t her style – rather than wrap the book in one _instead_. Michelle loved books, but she didn’t think she’d go _that_ far, over an actual _soul_.

The sound of a horn made her jump, and she cursed loudly. It was _definitely_ Miss Fadler’s fault that Michelle couldn’t even walk past a pigeon without feeling the urge to chase it away. They were her closest friends, but there was so much _rage_ bubbling inside her that she wouldn’t have cared if it flew into a car.

The sun was a raging insult on her back, and it seemed to just boil her anger even _more_ ; she wrapped her denim jacket tighter around her body, trying to hide herself from the suns attacks. But walking past a building that seemed to be made singularly by glass, that was next to impossible. The light glazed against her eyes, and she screwed them up tighter than she had with her jacket. It wasn’t a wonder that her favourite weather was rain.

The pad of feet before her made her open them back up, back up to the redone red and black suit of Spider-Man. In any other case, she would’ve jumped more than the horn made her, but her suspicions had been clarified, and now Spider-Man, to _her_ , was Peter – as a furry.

She didn’t stop, just kept walking, expecting him to maybe fall into step by her side or even just swing back away to save a cat from a tree; but when she was maybe a step away from colliding into him, she stopped, staring into those illegible mechanic eyes she’d grown _so_ used to seeing. The only thing that seemed comprehensible about them were the way they moved, and she’d discovered that _every_ time they darted to the sides, he was nervous - that’s all they were doing there. He fiddled with his fingers, gloved in a deep red fabric that was surprisingly smoother than the webbing they shot.

Okay, it wasn’t just the eyes that told her he was anxious: the way he did the _biggest_ throat swallow in history before he spoke was a big clue, too.

‘H-hey’

‘What’s up?’

His gaze finally came to meet hers, if you could call it that: those eyes weren’t in anyway human, never mind the ones behind the mask.

‘…you look a bit mad’

‘No shit’ she couldn’t have stopped the curse if she’d tried, but then again, he _was_ right: she couldn’t even feel the happiness she _knew_ was there when she opened her eyes to him she was _that_ _pissed_. Luckily, he didn’t seem to take offence -  if anything, he looked more relaxed, but the only thing to support that was the way his eyes decreased in size. _Barely_.

‘Well, I was just swinging past, and saw you…kinda, umm- I don’t know what you were doing but it looked like you were chasing a pigeon’

The anger _actually_ dissipated a bit, but she really wished it hadn’t because she could feel the embarrassment taking place on her cheeks.

_I thought I stopped myself from doing that_

‘…I actually did that?’ she was almost scared to ask.

‘…yeah’ She could hear the smile in his voice, and Parker smiles were very contagious, so a stupid one crept up on her too. But she had to admit: that _must’ve_ been funny to watch. She nearly wished he’d recorded it.

_But how could’ve he just coincidentally swung past and saw me…_

‘Aha!’ She pointed a finger in his face, meant to be threatening but he _was_ Spider-man, so the most it did was make him take a step back, but if he hadn’t, it would have gone right into his eye, into the hard-ass-mask-eye that would’ve done _more_ damage to _her_. ‘So you were _following_ me!?’

His hand came to scratch the back of his neck, yet another sign to when nervousness got the best of him,

‘...looking for you is a bit more accurate’

‘ _Still_ kinda following!’

A crease where his brows should’ve been said he was frowning.

‘Not really- okay, does it really matter?’

She let her hand fall to her side, looked at the ground: she wouldn’t have minded if he was following her – a hint that things weren’t just going to go back to the way they were.

‘Nah, not really’

‘Okay’ he sighed in relief, and she very nearly did too because _that could mean he was following me!_ ‘Do you remember back on the bridge?’

‘Yeah’

‘And how you asked me…’

She knew where this was going, but she didn’t know…

‘…do you still want that ride?’

…how she felt about it.

‘…Ummm…’

If she was being honest with herself, she’d only asked that back then for…well, _flirting_ purposes, because she’d _never_ flirted before, and _now_ it seemed like a _really_ stupid start. But he’d been so eager to give her a ride, to swing her around the city while the wind rushed through her hair; but all she would think about if they _did_ was how far the ground below would actually _be_ , and how fatal a drop from that height could be. She didn’t know why she asked that instead of just asking him out, and was instantly regretting ever letting it come out of her mouth.

But she stupidly didn’t take it back, because his eyes had a spark to them, a spark that lit her heart on fire in the most _harmless_ and exciting way – how could she take it back after that? That would be a _Flash-move_ , and she never did them, _never._ The only time she’d ever committed one was when she tripped Flash up in the cafeteria, landing him a face squelched in crap mac and cheese; but that had _everybody_ laughing, and he had _just_ called Peter a penis for the umpteenth time that day, plus it didn’t really count as it was done to the man himself, _so…_

She didn’t want to go flying round the city, and knew that if any Spider-Man fan heard her say that, she wouldn’t go round the city, she’d go flying into the _sea_. There weren’t any fans about, though, except her, because she’d been one for ages and wanted to kick herself for not feeling any temptation to go with him; deep down she did, and with every passing second, every time the realisation of this _once_ in a life time opportunity grew in the back of her mind, so did the temptation.

_Besides, didn’t Parker say he wanted to show off his skills?_

She looked at him, and could almost see the anticipation soak through the dark red fabric: he was still nervous - _almost_ as much as her.

‘Okay’

She swore she saw the crease in which his eyes just popped at.

‘R-Really!?’

‘ _Ah_ , I’m gonna take it back’

‘ _No_ way’ she could hear that smile again, but this time, it was more audible, as if it was expanded into a grin, which it probably _was_. She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at how iconic that was. ‘You _ain’t_ getting out of this _that_ easy’

‘You have no idea how creepy that sounded’

‘We _both_ know that wasn’t creepy’

‘It _kinda_ was-’

‘Okay I’m gonna need you to wrap your arms, _tightly_ , around my neck’ She couldn’t stop her eye roll there. She did as she was told though, the fabric soft at her fingers, just like she’d thought so. Even through the suit, she could smell the gorgeous shampoo his hair was rich in scent, it’s smell climbing up her nostrils and into her mind, filling it whole with the stuff, and _somehow,_ _magically_ calming her nerves.

_That make must be **really** good if it can do that_

He grabbed her waist, and a shiver coursed through her - a pleasant one, the kind you might get when you taste hot chocolate for the first time, and just like the hot chocolate, it warms her inside, so much so that the cold wind against her exposed fore arms had no effect anymore.

‘Okay’ he turns to face her, the fact that they’re almost as close as they’d ever been before apparently not taking its toll. _Yet_. ‘Hold on’

‘Cliché, dude, that’s in like _every_ Superman film and _how_ do I know that-’ she didn’t even have time to think of an answer before the sheer gust of wind was sailing through her hair, her clothes, across her arms – which weren’t that protected anymore – and her eyes, that were immediately a roaring waterfall of unintentional tears; she screwed them up, almost as tight as she was squeezing his neck. It was so loud: she didn’t know wind could be that _noisy_ – only someone who stupidly opened a plane escape door mid-flight would understand the horror she felt, the horror that was pumping her heart to the point where she thought it was going to leap out her chest and get carried away by the winds power. But the wind seemed strong enough to easily just rip it out, like it was doing to her voice.

She didn’t know she was screaming, couldn’t hear anything over the winds roar, but her throat was suddenly scratchy, practically begging her to give it the biggest gulp of water she could manage; her ears were pounding, their drums weakening by the minute, and all she wanted to do was stop screaming long enough to tell him to:

‘ _PUT ME DOWN!’_

_Wait, **was** I screaming?_

‘IS THAT WHY YOUR SCREAMING?!’

_Yep, never mind_

‘YES, OBVIOUSLY!’

‘IT’LL GET BETTER, TRUST ME!’

‘ _HOW!?’_

He didn’t answer, or maybe he did, but the way that they were suddenly soaring ten times faster deafened her ears with her own piercing scream – it must’ve been pretty loud if the wind was nothing compared to it. She didn’t even have her eyes open, but the sensation the wind was giving her told her that they were falling; or going downwards, whichever way Peter prefers to call it – she thinks anyone in her position would say it was like falling off a _building_.

She opened her eyes.

_Big mistake_

They _were_ falling.

‘OH! - PETER! P- OH MY GOD! WHAT THE-!’ her cries were muffled as she tucked her face into the crook of his neck, clinging onto him impossibly tight – she was really glad he had inhuman powers, because she was sure she’d have popped his head off otherwise. _Everything_ was going so fast: she could only catch glimpses of trees and clouds before the tall buildings had covered them up; could only catch the peeks of the New York citizen’s shocked faces before she was whisked away to the next street; but what she _could_ see bright and clear was her reflection in the buildings windows, and _God_ did she look a mess.

She had never really told anyone this, but, even though it wasn’t her _biggest_ fear, she wasn’t a _big_ fan of heights – that was surely why she looked as if she wanted to jump off a bridge, right? Peter looked so bad-ass though, but maybe that was because all his features were covered by the suit. She suddenly envied him: he could have the ugliest hair style and girls would still be lining up for a photograph.

She looked down, _another_ big mistake, and couldn’t take it anymore: she didn’t care if this was a once in a life time opportunity, she’d rather drink out-of-date milk than do this. She shut them back up, the involuntary tears cascading down her flushed cheeks.

‘ _HOW IS THIS BETTER?!’_

‘DON’T YOU LOVE THE WIND IN YOUR HAIR!?’ he yelled, etching to be heard over practically _every_ sound the world had to offer, ‘I CAN’T FEEL THAT, WITH THE MASK AND ALL-!’

‘ _PLEASE_ PUT ME BACK DOWN!?’

‘THOUGHT YOU ASKED FOR THIS!?’

‘HOW DID YOU EVEN _REMEMBER_ THAT!?’

That question had been bugging her _(get it?)_ because, _well_ , how _did_ he? Even _she_ didn’t remember till he reminded her, and she’s someone who could remember the first one hundred numbers of pi if she was actually _that_ bothered to.

‘WELL…’ it’s really weird for someone to hesitate while sky falling, especially while yelling every word, ‘…YOU ASKED, AND I-I KINDA NEED TO REPAY YOU FOR NOT TELLING ANYBODY WHO I AM!’

They did a dive again, slicing through the air _and_ her voice, for she screamed so loud that it cracked.

‘DUDE! I’VE KNOWN FOR LIKE A YEAR, EVER SINCE WASHINGTON!’

If they had been walking, she knew he’d have stopped in his path, and she silently thanked God for giving him the sense not to stop while they were more than a hundred feet in the air. She felt his head turn, maybe to face her, but she was too busy wailing into the crook of his neck, hair sailing behind them.

‘…YOU’VE- YOU’VE KNOWN FOR _THAT_ LONG!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?’

‘ _WHY_ SHOULD I TELL _YOU?!_ YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DIDN’T TELL _ME!_ ’

‘I ALREADY EXPLAINED TO YOU ON THE BRIDGE WHY, BUT YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU KNEW FOR _THAT_ LONG!’

‘DID I REALLY NEED TO!?’

‘YES! WHAT IF SOMEONE FOUND OUT, AND-!’

‘YEA, YEAH, I COULD’VE GOTTEN HURT! LIKE YOU SAID, YOU _ALREADY_ TOLD ME WHY!’

Something hit her back, giving a loud squawk and then rushing past her ears. She screamed.

‘WHAT THE FUCK WAS _THAT!?_ ’ she already knew, and she suddenly felt bad for chasing one away earlier. She could hear Peter’s laughter, the soft, soothing laugh only a person kind both inside and out could give. But it didn’t ease her fury.

‘YOU DID THAT ON _PURPOSE!’_

 _‘WHAT?’_ he couldn’t stop – she was surprised he hadn’t lost his grip on his web he was laughing so much. ‘NOT _MY_ FAULT YOU HIT YOUR COUSIN!’

‘YES IT IS- WAIT, WHAT-?’ That just made him laugh even more. She ventured her eyes open, just a _slit_ in her fearful expression, only to immediately shut them as a feather found its way into one.

‘CAN YOU _STOP_ IT WITH THE PIGEON JOKES?!’

‘NAH, THEY’RE TOO GOOD TO STOP! I LOVE _SQUAWKING_ THEM TO YOU!’

‘YOU STOP THOSE CRAP GRANDAD JOKES OR I’M GONNA LET GO!’

‘YOU JUST TRY!’ the amusement and laughter in his tone had gone, as did the smile she was secretly dreaming of every night; she _swore_ his grip around her waist tightened.

‘…I’LL NEVER LET YOU FALL!’

‘ _GOD_ , YOU WANT SOME _CRACKERS_ WITH THAT CHEESE?!’

‘HEY! LET ME BE ROMATIC!’

‘CHEESE AIN’T ROMATIC!’

 But it is.

She grinned into his neck, the height at which they were actually _travelling_ at not really a bother to her anymore anymore.

_It really is_

**-*-**

‘You okay?’

Her eyes snapped open, the fact that she was literally _clinging_ onto Spider-Man, _in_ public, with _so_ many faces on them, _just_ dawning on her. She let go abruptly, letting her signature poker face take over and try prevent the sigh that was _so_ close to escaping her lips: she was on ground, walking, _on_ _ground_ , not air, like the stupid song.

_Is that a song?_

She coughed - _fake_ , and they _all_ knew it.

‘Yeah…yeah, I’m-I’m fine, just…’

She gripped the rim of her jacket, thinking that would stop her stuttering like the guy in front of her would always do, which was cute; but when _she_ did it, not cute, _whatsoever_. Breathing out, she shook her head, trying to tame her hair, but obviously not doing the trick because she looked like a fucking clown right there.

‘Yeah, never doing that again’

‘So…’ he scratched the back of his neck.

_Why is he always **nervous**?_

‘…why did you agree to it? I mean, if you were gonna freak out like that’

_No way I’m gonna say flirting purposes_

She thought she told him, while she was screaming to the God above to save her, but it all went speeding by – she wouldn’t have noticed if she’d admitted her feelings to him, which she’ll kill herself for if she did.

‘…just wanted to see how good you are at it’

‘You mean my skills?’

‘…yeah’

‘And how were they?’

_Is he flirting? I feel like he’s flirting_

‘Alright’

‘Just _alright_?’

‘You begging for praise?’

‘Kinda’

She laughed, and _didn’t_ try to hide it.

‘Okay, they were good, at least for the _only_ person swinging around a city’

He shuffled on his feet, and she could feel the tension in the air. That’s saying something, because New York air isn’t exactly the clearest the world has.

He brought a hand up, and there was suddenly too much cheese for the crackers to handle. But she didn’t think twice before returning with a smack drowned out by the hustle and bustle of New York on an ordinary day. He seemed mighty proud of himself, but not as much as she was for not making a comment that would’ve _definitely_ be added to the mental _Flash-move_ list stored in the back of her mind.

‘I-okay, I’ll see you around ma’am’

Now there was too much crackers for the cheese to handle.

‘Yeah, don’t call me ma’am’

‘Too late’ he shot a web onto a nearby lamppost, turning to look at her, and she could feel the admiration take over for a fraction of a second because _how can a loser be so awesome?_ ‘You _suit_ it’

And she was so glad he’d swung off then, for she was that close to whipping his mask off and proving that ma’am’s didn’t commit PDA.

**-*-**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, a bit longer than I thought it'd be but hope it's still good :)


End file.
